Map showing the Lines of Advance taken by Ulster Division, July, 1st, 1916.
Our Divisional line on the right ran through Moy and Crucifix (see map), and on the left from “Mary Redan” on the other side of the river. The 109th Brigade held the line on the extreme right, 9th Inniskilling Fusiliers, and 10th Inniskilling Fusiliers in front, with 11th Inniskilling Fusiliers and 14th Royal Irish Rifles behind. Of the 108th Brigade, our Battalion was on the right nearest the 10th Inniskilling Fusiliers, then came 13th Royal Irish Rifles with 9th Royal Irish Fusiliers and the 12th Royal Irish Rifles on the extreme left. Our Battalion formed “B” and “A” Companies in front, with “D” and “C” Companies in support, “C” supporting “A” on the right, “D” supporting “B” on the left. Our object was the line marked “Omagh” “Strabane.” “C” Company was to consolidate “Omagh” and “A” Company “Strabane.” “D” and “B” Companies commanded by Captain Webb and Captain Craig, “Strabane” and “Enniskillen”. That was as far as we had to go, which meant consolidating the 3rd German line running through “Coleraine,” “Portadown,” “Enniskillen,” “Strabane,” “Omagh.” The 107th Brigade were in support behind the 108th, and we were supported by the 15th Battalion Royal Irish Rifles. The object of the 107th Brigade was then to pass through to the 4th German line, “Portrush,” “Bundoran,” “Derry,” and consolidate it. This was as far as the Division was to go. We were to be relieved by the 49th Division when we had “done our bit.” After an intense bombardment the great day of battle broke in “sunshine and mist” the mist almost obscuring the brilliant sunshine as the morning advanced. The previous night had been passed quietly in the trenches, the enemy submitting in silence to the terrific gun fire. The German lines were pulverised, shells being discharged at the rate of 140 rounds of shell per minute. In spite of this their dug-outs mostly remained uninjured. For half-an-hour it seemed as if the guns had gathered themselves together for one grand final effort before the British lines should be let loose on their prey. Presently the mist cleared away and heavy black smoke clouds could be seen drifting across the German lines on a slight south-westerly breeze, the result of the bursting of our heavy shells. This proved small assistance to us later on, when, with the sun in their faces, our men advanced from the trenches. At seven o’clock, eight of our ’planes flying over the German lines were fired at, but not much damage done. The Germans still lying low, not a single German aviator could be seen at any time that morning. Soon after 7 a.m. there was a perceptible slackening of our fire, and at 7-30 a.m. the attack began, our gallant soldiers leapt from their trenches and advanced against the enemy. The very moment that our men slipped over the parapet they were met with a hail of machine-gun bullets and shrapnel played on them. It was then that Captain Webb, of “D” Company fell, and many others. They advanced in waves 50 yards apart, and were mown down like hay. “A” Company was soon wiped out, and “C” Company, supporting it, suffered very severely; but they pressed on, gaining all their objectives. By this time there had been a severe thinning out of officers and others in command, and the men, too eager, shoved on towards the 4th line very quickly, and got into the fire of our own artillery. Some of “B” and “D” Company actually got into Grandcourt. A war correspondent said: “The gallantry displayed by the carrying parties at this part of the fight was most conspicuous, and tiny escorts showed complete contempt of danger in bringing prisoners across an area which was being ploughed up by shell fire. One man, unaided, shepherded across the valley of death a party of fifteen Germans who showed extreme reluctance to risk the fire of their own guns; they wanted to lie down and wait. ‘Not at all,’ said the Ulsterman, covering them with his rifle, ‘just you go across, and they’ll look after you when you get there.’ In the course of a brief conversation several of the prisoners said that the effect of our bombardment prior to the launching of the attack had been terrific. They had been in the front lines, and while they had a reserve supply of food, our barrage fire had prevented them getting any water. Their machine-guns, they said, had been protected by being placed in deep dug-outs, and were brought up and used against our troops when they advanced.” Within an hour and a half after the opening of the battle our men had taken five lines of German trenches and captured several hundred prisoners, advancing wave after wave like an irresistible tide. We were in advance of the Division on our left, who were to take Beaumont Hamel, and consequently the whole left flank was exposed to batteries of machine-guns: it was through this that the 12th Battalion Royal Irish Rifles suffered so severely, also the 9th Royal Irish Rifles, who supported them. “The men advanced as if on parade; one or two remembering the ancient watchwords, sang out “Dolly’s Brae” and “No Surrender,” but for the most part they kept the stiff upper lip and clenched teeth that meant death or victory.” There was no thought of giving way, merely duty to be done and a task to be completed. Into the very furnace heat of the German fire our gallant lads went, and as shot and shell raked their ranks, others pressed forward to take their places. From both flanks they were enfiladed by machine-gun fire. On the right, Germans lying low in dug-outs came up from the cellars in Thiepval village with machine-guns and poured a hail of bullets into the 109th Brigade and 108th Brigade from behind. “As they emerged from Thiepval Wood they fell in hundreds, the German fire at this point being protracted and perfect.” The trees were slashed and cut till nothing but bare stumps remained. No one could cross that No Man’s Land and escape the fire; even the wounded were shot through and through on the ground as they lay. The 107th Brigade, passing through in support to the 108th, did magnificent work. All day long the remnants of the battalions held on to the lines of the German trenches which had been captured, though nearly all the officers were gone, but no supplies of bombs or ammunition could be got across. In the evening, about six o’clock, a big German counter-attack was made, and we had to fall back, leaving our wounded, who were too bad to be moved, in dug-outs. These advanced points could not be held for long; the enemy might be killed and captured, but the place had developed into a dangerous salient, while the flanking fire from right and left made the position a terrible one, the Division on either side being held up by unsurmountable obstacles. The order to retire was given, and on Saturday night, July 1st, we were once more on our old front line. Apparently all the sacrifice had been in vain. At 1 o’clock on Sunday afternoon the remnants of the 107th Brigade and all that was left of our battalion and the 13th Royal Irish Rifles counter-attacked and easily retook the three German lines. The crucial point was the ridge that ran through “Omagh,” and unless that could be held we could not hope to hold Serre and the line to La Boiselle. On the left, Beaumont Hamel commanded all, and on the right Thiepval village was the strong point. Unless these were captured our divisional line became a salient raked by machine-gun fire. The 32nd Division actually passed through Thiepval village, but the Germans, who were hidden in the cellars and concrete dug-outs, allowed them to pass, and then came up from behind, and the casualties were appalling. The 12th Royal Irish Rifles and the 9th Royal Irish Fusiliers, on our left, were practically wiped out. The Germans staked all on holding the ridge. 70 of the 15th Royal Irish Rifles and 113 of our 11th Battalion answered their names on Saturday night, and that was before the fierce fighting of Sunday. One of the most remarkable facts was the enormous number of slightly wounded men among our casualties; and as for the medical organisation, nothing could surpass it; no tribute could be great enough for the divisional medical staff. It was a magnificently heroic fight, and one of which Ulster has every reason to be proud.
THE RED HAND OF ULSTER.
Somme—July 1st, 1916.
When one great wave has shatter’d
A coast that gleamed in light,
We look, and share the wonder,
Amazement and affright;
But what can hide its grandeur,
And what can veil its might?
On grey and heathy hillsides,
In valleys bowered in leaves;
In wide and flowery meadows,
Where peaceful sheep and beeves
Strayed thro’ the days of waiting,
No change the eye perceives.
The mist-clouds veil the mountains,
The mist-rains drift and wing
Across the ancient castle,
The homely cot, where cling
The climbing sprays of woodbine,
Where wild birds hop and sing.